The Bold Adventures of Poins--In the Woods!

[Argent Silvermage]

Devon

Devon has been quiet knowing the scene he may see when he reaches his mentor. "Please wait here. My master is not well but this cannot wait. I will see if he can speak to you."
Devon enters Nightshade's home trembling from the thought of finding his beloved mentor either dead or still lingering. He's not sre what would be worse.

 

[Rhialto]

Entering the hut, Devon is surprised when Tristan glances at him nervously. "Ummm--he arrived just after you left..."

Devon blinks in shock as he comes upon a man in heavy silver robes, a hood pulled up over his head, in conversation with Nightshade. They are speaking in some strange language.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Devon

ooc: I'm so sorry. I seem to have lost track of tis game and forgot to post.

Devon walks up to his master's side and kneels. He looks up at the newcomer but says nothing. (Are they speaking Druidic?)

 

[Rhialto]

OOC: Nope. Not Druidic.

After a moment, Nightshade turns to his student. "Ahh, Devon! My apologies. This is my old friend Aert of the Silver Robes."

The cloaked figure nods. "Greetings." Devon is startled to realize that his face is completely obscured in the shadows of his cowl--except for two glittering silver spots, that look like eyes...

 

[Brain]

Hemaor enters cautiously, trying to remain as quiet as possible as to not interrupt the conversation of a dying man. He pets his wolf's head unconsciously, as if to reassure himself that it is there.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Devon

"G..greetings Honored one. Master Nightshade you have another visitor. Obeah Swiftwing has come to speak of bad tidings." Devon says and awaits Nightshades OK to let the others in.

 

[jkason]

Liev, despite his fascination with the giant bat, begins to fidget waiting in front of the tent, but he somehow manages the uncharacteristic self-control to stay with the Goblin leader awaiting the druid's return.

 

[Rhialto]

Nightshade's eyes light up. "Obeah Swiftwing? My... old friend?" He coughs weakly, then smiles at Devon. "Send him in, send him in!"

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Devon

Devon flashes Hemaor a look that would kill and passes him to let the rest into the room. "NIghtshade will see you now Obeah Swiftwing. Please all of you come in. This will be important to all of us."

 

[Rhialto]

As soon as he is told he may enter, Obeah Swiftwing bounds in. "Solanum! My old friend!" His eyes goes wide as he notices Aert. "And the Master of the Silver Robes! This is fortunate, for the matters I have to discuss concern matters we have discuss often in our letters of late." He takes a deep breath. "The Purple Eyes tribe have moved into the area, hoping to acquire the lore of the Azerai... and the Godslayer, if they can find it."

Aert nods. "I have expected the Godson to make such an ill-advised attempt--the borders of Vathi are much too small for such an evil--he grows restless."

"Yes," snarls Nightshade. "And what is done to stop them? NOTHING! The Eldari, my 'noble' kin lay off in the West, absorbed in their own petty quarrels... the Green Council is so obssessed with ancient wrongs these days, the present escapes them..." He begins to cough sharply. Obeah Swiftwing rushes forward and chants something, soothing the coughs. "I thank you, Kesh." He turns to Devon. "Please leave us in private. We have grave things to discuss, and dark secrets to speak of."